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jSea Pictui^s 



BY 



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ALFI^ED TENNYSON 



ILLUSTRATED BY 

William J. Whittemore 






New Vork 
Thomas V. Crowell 8f Co. 



TRSS'T'I 



Copyright, I 887, 
By THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 




We left behind the painted buoy 

That tosses at the harbor-mouth 
And madly danced our hearts with joy, 

As fast we fleeted to the South : 
How fresh was every sight and sound 

On open main or winding shore ! 
We knew the merry world was round. 

And we might sail forevermore. 

The Voyage 



All round the coast the languid air did swoon, 
Breathing like one that hath a weary dream. 
Full-faced above the valley stood the moon : 
And like a downward smoke, the slender stream 
Along ihe cliff to fall and pause and fall did 
seem. 

The Lotits-Eaters. 




'T is the place, and all around it, as of old, the 

curlews call, 
Dreary gleams about the moorland flying over 

Locksley Hall , 




mmmmm 



Locksley Hall, that in the distance overlooks 
the sandy tracts, 

And the hollow ocean-ridges roaring into cata- 
racts. 

Locksley Hall 



44 -^ 



So now on sand they walk'd, and now on cliff, 
Lingering about the thymy promontories, 
Till all the sails were darken'd in the west, 
A.nd rosed in the east. 



Sea Dreams 




The lij^hts begin to twinkle from the rocks 
The long day wanes the slow moon climbs 

the deep 
Moans round with many voices. 

Ul.YSSES 





J'he town was hush VI beneath us : lower down 
The bay was oily-calm ; the harbor-buoy 
Sole star of j^hosphorescence in the calm. 
With one green sparkle ever and anon 
Dipt by itself, and we were glad at heart. 

AuDLEv Court 



And then the two 
Dropt to the cove, and watch'd the great sea 

fall 
Wave after wave, each mightier than the last, 
Till last, a ninth one, gathering half the deep 
And full of voices, slowly rose and plunged 
Roaring. 

The Coming of Arthuk. 




A broken chancel with a broken cross, 
That stood on a dark strait of barren land 
On one side lay the ocean, and on one 
Lay a great water, and the moon was full. 

The Passing of Arthur. 




All down the lonely coast of Lyonnesse, 
Each with a beacon-star upon his head, 
And with a wild sea-light about his feet, 
He saw them —headland after headland flame 
Far on into the rich heart of the west 

Guinevere. 




Sweet and low, sweet and low, 

Wind of the western sea, 
Low, low, breathe and blow. 

Wind of the western sea ! 
Over the rolling waters go, 
Come from the dying moon, and blow, 

Blow him again to me , 
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. 

The Princess. 




Sleep and rest, sleep and rest. 

Father will come to thee soon , 
Rest, rest, on mother's breast, 

Father will come to thee soon , 
Father will come to his babe m the nest, 
Silver sails all out of the west 

Under the silver moon : 
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep. 

Thf Prinies^> 




t 



Among the waste and lumber of the shore, 
Hard coils of cordage, swarthy fishing-nets. 
Anchors of rusty fluke, and boats updrawn, 



Enoch Akden. 




LIBRftRY OF CONGRESS 

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